"What!"
Jack, too, wheeled like a flash. Back there in a crowd of cadets stood the machinist upon whom the submarine boys were depending for the best showing that the "Farnum" could make.
"Williamson up here!" gasped Hal. "And—"
"That fellow, Truax, all alone with the motors!" hissed Captain Jack.
Then, after a second or two of startled silence:
"Come on, Hal!"
The naval cadets were too much absorbed in watching the race to have overheard anything. Williamson, too, standing at the rail, looking out over the water, had not yet discovered that Hal Hastings was up from the engine room.
Jack Benson stole below on tip-toe, though with the machinery running so much stealth was not necessary. Right behind him followed Hal.
As the two gained the doorway of the engine room Sam Truax had his back turned to them, and so did not note the sudden watchers.
There was a smile of malicious triumph on Truax's face as he turned a lever a little way over, thus decreasing the ignition power of the motors.
Both Jack and Hal could see that the gasoline flow had been turned on nearly to the full capacity. It was the poor ignition work that was making the motors respond so badly. A little less, and a little less, of the electric spark that burned the gasoline, and air mixture—that was the secret of the gradually decreasing speed, while all the time it looked as though the "Farnum" was doing her level best to win the race.
Whistling, as he bent over, Sam Truax caught up a long, slender steel bar. With this he stepped forward, intent upon his next wicked step.
"Gracious! The scoundrel is going to run that bar in between the moving parts of the engine and bring about a break-down!" quivered Hal.
Sam Truax stood watching for his chance to thrust the steel bar in just where it would inflict the most damage. Then raising the bar quickly, he poised for the blow.
"Stop that, you infernal sneak!" roared Jack Benson, bounding into the engine room.
CHAPTER XVI
BRAVING NOTHING BUT A SNEAK
"You—here?" hissed Truax, wheeling about.
He had not had time to make the thrust with the steel bar.
Instead, as he wheeled, he raised it above his head, drawing back in an attitude of guard.
As he did so, a vile oath escaped Truax's lips.
"Put that bar down!" commanded Jack Benson, standing unflinchingly before the angry rascal.
"I'll put it down on your head, if you don't get out of here!" snarled the wretch.
"Put it down, and consider yourself off duty here, for good and all," insisted Jack.
"Are you going to get out of here, or shall I brain you?" screamed
Truax, his face working in the height of his passion.
"Neither," retorted Captain Jack, coolly. "I command here, and you know.
Put that bar down, and leave the engine room."
"Come and take the bar from me—if you dare!" taunted the fellow, a more wicked gleam flashing in his eyes.
"Hal!" called Jack, sharply.
"Aye!"
"Call two or three of the cadets down here. Don't make any noise about it."
This order was called without Benson's turning his head. He still stood facing the sneak while Hal sped away.
"Now, I've got you alone!" gloated Truax. "I'll finish you!"
A scornful smile curled Jack's lips as he gazed steadily back at his foe.
"Truax, you're a coward, as well as a sneak."
"I am—eh?"
With another nasty oath Truax stepped quickly forward, the steel bar upraised.
He took but one step, however, for Captain Jack Benson had not retreated an inch.
Nor did Jack have his hands up in an attitude of guard.
"Are you going to put that bar down, Truax?" the young skipper demanded, in a voice that betrayed not a tremor.
"No."
"Then you'll have to make good in a moment, for we're going to attack you."
"Bah! I can stave in two or three heads before any number of you could stop me," sneered the fellow, in an ugly voice.
"You could, but you won't dare."
"I won't?"
"Not you!"
At that instant rapid steps were heard. Hal Hastings returned with three of the midshipmen, behind them Williamson trying to crowd his way into the scene.
"Just tell us what you want, Mr. Benson," proposed Cadet Merriam, amiably.
"This fellow has been 'doping' our engines," announced Captain Jack. "And now he's threatening to stand us off. We'll close in on him from both sides. If he tries to use that steel bar on any of us—"
"If he does, he'll curse his unlucky star," declared Midshipman Merriam.
"Come on, gentlemen. We'll show him some of the Navy football tactics!"
The three midshipmen approached Truax steadily from the right. Jack,
Hal and Williamson stepped in on the left.
With a yell like that of a maniac Sam Truax swung the bar.
Having to watch both sides at once, however, he made a fizzle of it. The bar came down, but struck the floor.
Then, with a yell, the midshipmen leaped in on one side, Jack leading the submarine forces on the other. Mr. Merriam's trip and Jack's smashing blow with the fist brought Truax down to the floor in a heap.
"Now, cart this human rubbish out of here!" ordered Jack Benson, sternly.
"Don't hit him—he isn't man enough to be worthy of a blow!"
Swooping down upon the prostrate one, Hal and the midshipmen seized Sam
Truax by his arms and legs, carrying him bodily out of the engine room.
"Williamson," commanded Captain Jack, "stop the speed."
"In the race, sir. We—"
"Stop the speed," repeated Benson.
"You're the captain," admitted Williamson. Grasping the twin levers of the two motors he swung them backward.
"Disregard any signal to go ahead until we've had a chance to inspect the motors," added Captain Jack.
Then the submarine skipper darted out into the cabin.
Sam Truax lay sprawling on the floor. Midshipman Merriam, a most cheerful smile on his face, sat across the fellow, while Hal and the other two midshipmen stood by, looking on.
"Hold him please, until I can have the wretch taken care of," requested
Captain Jack, making for the spiral stairway to the conning tower.
Just as the young skipper stepped out on deck he heard the "Hudson's" bow-gun break out sharply in the halting signal.
Taking a megaphone, Benson stood at the rail until the gunboat ranged up alongside.
"Have you broken down?" came the hail from the gunboat's bridge.
"I thought it best to stop speed, sir. We'll have to look over our engines before it will be safe to attempt any more speed work," Captain Jack answered. "I've caught a fellow tampering with our machinery. We hold him a prisoner, now. Can you take him off our hands, sir?"
"One of your own men?" came back the question.
"Of course, sir."
"We'll send a marine guard to take him, on your complaint, Mr. Benson."
"Thank you, sir."
The gunboat's engines slowed down. Ere long her port side gangway was lowered. Jack saw not only two marines and a corporal come down over the side, but Lieutenant Commander Mayhew appeared in person. That officer came over in the cutter.
"You've had treachery aboard, have you?" asked the lieutenant commander, as he climbed up over the side.
"Rather. A new machinist, taken aboard just before we sailed from
Dunhaven. The same fellow who must have played the trick on the
'Pollard's' engines yesterday," Benson replied.
"I'll be glad to have a fellow like that in irons in the brig aboard the 'Hudson,' then," muttered Mr. Mayhew. "I couldn't understand, Mr. Benson, how you were doing so badly in the full speed ahead dash."
"The prisoner below is the answer, sir," Captain Jack replied. He then led the corporal and two marines below. The corporal produced a pair of handcuffs, which he promptly snapped over Truax's wrists.
"You'll be sorry for this, one of these days," threatened Truax, with a snarl that showed his teeth.
"Some day, then, if you please, when I have more leisure than I have now," Jack retorted, dryly. "This man is all yours, corporal."
Truax was foolish enough to try to hang back on his conductors. A slight jab through the clothing from one of the marines' bayonets caused the prisoner to stop that trick. He was taken on deck and over the side.
"Coxswain, return for me after you've taken the prisoner to the 'Hudson,'" directed Mr Mayhew. "Now, Mr. Benson, I would like to see what has been done to your engines."
"That's just what I want to know, too," responded Jack.
They found Hal and Williamson hard at work, inspecting the motors.
"The ignition power was lowered, and that may have been the most that the fellow did," said Hal. "Yet, at the same time, before putting these engines to any severe test, I believe they ought to be cooled and looked over."
Lieutenant Commander Mayhew frowned.
"These delays eat up our practice cruise time a whole lot," he grumbled.
"I'll put the engines through their paces, and chance mischief having been done to them, if you wish, sir."
"No; that won't do either, Mr. Hastings," replied the naval officer. "This craft is private property, and I have no right to give orders that may damage private property. I'll hold the fleet until you've had time to inspect your engines properly. By that time, however, we'll have to put back to the coast for the night, for our practice time will be gone."
"In the days to follow, sir," put in Benson, earnestly, "I think we can more than make up for this delay. We won't have the traitor aboard after this."
"What earthly object can the fellow have had for wanting to damage your motors?" demanded the naval officer, looking hopelessly puzzled.
"I can't even make a sane guess, sir," Jack Benson admitted.
An hour and a half later the "Hudson" and the two submarines headed back for a safe little bay on the coast. Here the three craft anchored for the night.
CHAPTER XVII
THE EVIL GENIUS OF THE WATER FRONT
It was nearly eight in the evening when the three craft were snug at anchor.
The bay was a small one, hardly worthy of the name. The only inhabited part of the shore thereabouts consisted of the fishing village known as Blair's Cove, a settlement containing some forty houses.
Hardly had all been made snug aboard the "Farnum" when Jack, standing on the platform deck after the cadets had been transferred to the "Hudson" for the night, saw a small boat heading out from shore.
"Is that one of the new submarine crafts?" hailed a voice from the bow of the boat.
"Yes, sir," Jack answered, courteously.
No more was said until the boat had come up alongside.
"I thought maybe you'd be willing to let me have a look over a craft of this sort," said the man in the bow. He appeared to be about forty years of age, dark-haired and with a full, black beard. The man was plainly though not roughly dressed; evidently he was a man of some education.
"Why, I'm mighty sorry, sir," Captain Jack Benson replied. "But I'm afraid it will be impossible to allow any strangers on board during this cruise."
"Oh, I won't steal anything from your craft,", answered the stranger, laughingly. "I won't be inquisitive, either, or go poking into forbidden corners. Who's your captain?"
"I am, sir."
"Then you'll let me come aboard, just for a look, won't you?" pleaded the stranger.
Such curiosity was natural. The man seemed like a decent fellow.
But Jack shook his head.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm positive our owners wouldn't approve of our allowing any strangers to come on board."
"Had any trouble, so far, with strangers?" asked the man.
"I didn't say that," Jack replied, evasively. "But the construction of a submarine torpedo boat is a secret. It is a general rule with our owners that strangers shan't be allowed on board, unless they're very especially vouched for. Now, I hate to appear disobliging; yet, if you've ever been employed by anyone else, you will appreciate the need of obeying an owner's orders."
"You're under the orders of the boss of that gunboat?" asked the stranger, pointing to the "Hudson."
"On this cruise, yes, sir," Jack nodded.
"Maybe, if I saw the fellow in command of the gunboat, then he'd give me an order allowing me to come on board."
"I'm very certain the lieutenant commander wouldn't do anything of the sort," Benson responded.
The stranger gave a comical sigh.
"Then I'm afraid I don't see a submarine boat to-night—that is, any more than I can see of it now."
"That's about the way it looks to me, also," Jack answered, smiling.
"Yet, believe me, I hate awfully to seem discourteous about it."
"Oh, all right," muttered the stranger, nodding to the two boatmen, who had rowed him out alongside.
"Good!" grunted Eph. "I'm glad you didn't let him on board, Captain.
On this cruise our luck doesn't seem to run with strangers."
"It doesn't, for a fact," laughed Jack Benson.
"Hi, ho—ah, hum!" yawned young Somers, stretching. "It will be mine for early bunk to-night, I reckon."
At this moment a boat was observed rounding the stern of the "Hudson."
It came up alongside, landing a marine sentry.
"Anybody on the 'Farnum' want to go ashore to-night?" hailed a voice from the gunboat's rail. "The shore boat will be ready in five minutes."
"I believe I would like to take just a run through the village," declared
Jack, turning to his chum. "Do you feel like a land-cruise with me,
Hal?"
"I think I'd better go," laughed Hastings. "You seem to get into trouble when you go alone."
"All right, then. And, Eph since you're so sleepy, you can turn in as soon as you want. The boat will be under sufficient protection," Jack added, nodding toward the marine slowly pacing the platform deck.
Williamson was called too, but declared that he felt like turning in early. So, when the shore boat came, it had but two passengers to take from the submarine. There were a few shore leave men, however, from, the gunboat.
"This boat will return to the fleet, gentlemen, every hour up to midnight," stated the petty officer in charge, as Jack and Hal stepped ashore at a rickety little wharf.
"Judging from what we can see of the town from here, we'll be ready to go back long before midnight," Jack Benson laughingly told his companion.
"All I want is to shake some of the sea-roll out of my gait," nodded
Hastings. "It surely doesn't seem to be much of a town."
By way of public buildings there turned out to be a church, locked and dark, a general store and also a drug-store that contained the local post-office. But the drug-store carried no ice cream or soda, so the submarine boys turned away.
There was one other "public" place that the boys failed to discover at once. That was a low groggery at the further end of the town. Here two of the sailors who had come on shore leave turned in for a drink or two. They found a suave, black-bearded man quite ready to buy liquor for Uncle Sam's tars.
Three-quarters of an hour later Jack and Hal felt they had seen about as much of the town as they cared for, when a hailing voice stopped them.
"Finding it pretty dull, gentlemen?"
"Oh, good evening," replied Captain Jack, recognizing the bearded man whom he had refused admittance to the "Farnum."
"Pretty stupid town, isn't it, Captain!" asked the stranger, holding out his hand, which Jack Benson took.
"As lively as we thought it would be," Hal rejoined. "We just came ashore to stretch ourselves a bit. Thought we might lay a course to an ice-cream soda, too, but failed."
"These fishermen don't have such things," smiled the stranger. "They are content with the bare necessities of life, with a little grog and tobacco added. Speaking of grog, would you care to try the best this town has, gentlemen?"
"Thank you," Jack answered, politely. "We've never either of us tasted the stuff, and we don't care to begin."
"Drop into the drug-store and have a cigar, then?"
"We don't smoke, either, thank you," came from Hal.
"You young men are rather hard to entertain in a place like this," sighed the stranger, but his eyes twinkled.
"We are just as grateful for the intention," Jack assured him.
"Tell you what I can do, gentlemen," proposed the stranger, suddenly.
"I might invite you down to my shack for a little while, and show you
my books and some models of yachts and ships that I've been collecting.
I'm quite proud of my collection in that line. Won't you come?"
Anything in the line of yacht or ship-models interested both of these sea-loving boys from the shipyard at Dunhaven. Jack graciously accepted the invitation for them both.
"And, though I have no soda fountain," continued the bearded one, "I can offer you some soft drinks. I always keep some about the place."
"How do you come to be living in a place like this, if I'm not too inquisitive?" queried Benson, as the three strolled down the street.
"Doctor's orders," replied the bearded one. "So I've rented the best old shack I could get here, down by the water. I spend a good deal of my time sailing a sloop that I have. Curtis is my name."
Jack and Hal introduced themselves in turn.
Curtis's shack proved to be well away from the village proper, and down near the waterfront. A light shone from a window near the front door as the three approached the small dwelling.
"I think I can interest you for an hour, gentlemen," declared the bearded one, as he slipped a key in the lock of the door.
He admitted them to a little room off the hallway, a room that contained not much beyond a table and four, chairs, a side-table and some of the accessories of the smoker.
"Just take a seat here," proposed Curtis, "while I get some sarsaparilla for you. I'll be right back in a moment."
It was four or five minutes before Curtis came, back, bearing a tray on which were three tall glasses, each containing a brownish liquid.
"The stuff isn't iced, yet it's fairly cold," the bearded one explained.
"Well, gentlemen, here's to a pleasant evening!"
Hal, who was thirsty, took a long swallow of the sarsaparilla, finding the flavor excellent. Jack drank more slowly, though he enjoyed the beverage.
"If you don't mind," suggested Curtis, "I will light a cigar. And say, by the way, gentlemen, what if we take a little walk down to my beach? Before showing you the models I spoke of, I'd like to have your opinion of the lines of my sloop."
"We'll go down and take a look with great pleasure," Jack Benson agreed, rising. "And I'm glad, sir, that you're able to show us more courtesy than we were able to offer you to-night."
"Oh, that was all right," declared their host, smiling good-humoredly. "Rules are rules, and you have your owners to please. No hard feelings on that score, I assure you."
Curtis led the way through a dark yard down to a pier. Moored there lay a handsome white sloop, some forty-two feet in length—a boat of a good and seaworthy knockabout type.
"This is a sloop, all right," Jack agreed, cordially. "Rather different from the lumbering fishing craft hereabouts."
"Oh, hah, yum!" yawned Hal, at which Curtis shot a quick glance at him.
"Come on board," invited Curtis, stepping down to the deck of the craft.
"Let me show you what a comfortable cruising cabin I have."
"Hi, oh, yowl" yawned Hal, again. "Jack, I think I shall enjoy my rest to-night."
"Same case here," agreed Benson, stifling a yawn that came as though in answer to Hal's.
"I won't keep you long, gentlemen, if I am boring you," agreed their host, amiably. "Now, I'll go below first and light up. So! Now, come down and take a look. Do you find many yacht cabins more comfortable than this one?"
It was, indeed, a cozy place. Up forward stood a miniature sideboard, complete in every respect with glass and silver. In the center of the cabin was a folding table. There were locker seats and inviting looking cushions. The trim was largely of mahogany. On either side was a broad, comfortable-looking berth.
"Just get into that berth and try it, Mr. Hastings," urged the bearded one.
"I—I'm afraid to," confessed Hal, stifling another yawn.
"Afraid?"
"Very sure thing!"
"Why?"
"I'm—hah-ho-hum!" yawned Hal Hastings. "I'm afraid I'd—yow!—abuse your hospitality by going to sleep."
Jack Benson leaned against the edge of the opposite berth, feeling unaccountably drowsy.
"Oh, nonsense," laughed Curtis. "Just pile into that berth for a moment, Hastings, and see what a soft, restful place it is. I'll agree to pull you out, if necessary."
Not realizing much, in his approaching stupor, Hal Hastings allowed himself to be coaxed to stretch himself at full length in the downy berth.
Almost immediately he closed his eyes, drifting off into stupor.
"Why, your friend is drowsy, isn't he?" laughed the bearded one, turning to the submarine skipper.
Jack Benson's own eyelids were suspiciously close together.
"Why—what—ails you?"
Curtis spoke in a low, droning, far-away voice that caused Jack Benson's upper eyelids to sink. Curtis stood watching him, in malicious glee, for some moments. Then, at last, he took hold of the young skipper.
"Come, old fellow," coaxed the bearded one, "you'll do best to join your friend in a good nap. Get up in the berth."
"Lemme alone," protested the boy, thickly, feeling that he was being lifted. Jack struggled, partly rousing himself.
"Come, get up into the berth. You'll be more comfortable there."
"Lemme alone. What are you trying to do?" demanded Jack, swinging an arm.
Curtis dodged the light blow, then gripped Jack Benson resolutely.
"Now, see here, young man," hissed the bearded one, "I'm not going
to have any more nonsense out of you. Up into the berth you go!
Do you want me to hit you?"
Another man thrust his head down the cabin hatchway, showing an evil, grinning face.
"Got 'em right?" demanded the one from the hatchway.
"Yes," snapped the bearded one, then turned to give his attention to Jack Benson, who was putting up an ineffectual fight while Hal slumbered on. "Now, see here, Benson, quit all your fooling!"
"You lemme up," insisted the submarine boy, in a low, chill voice, though he swung both his arms in an effort to assert himself. "M not goin' t' stay here. Lemme up, I say! 'M goin' back to—own boat."
"The submarine?" jeered the bearded man.
"Yep."
"Guess again, son," laughed Curtis, jeeringly. "You're not going back aboard the submarine to-night."
"Am so," declared Benson, obstinately, though his tone was growing more drowsy every instant, and his busy hands moved almost as weakly as an infant's.
"Listen, if you've got enough of your senses left," growled the bearded men. "You're not going back to the 'Farnum'—neither to-night, nor at any other time during the next few months. You're bound on a long cruise, but not on a submarine boat. I am the captain here, and I'll name the cruise!"
CHAPTER XVIII
HELD UP BY MARINES
It was barely a minute afterward that Jack Benson lapsed into a very distinct snore.
"No more trouble from this pair," laughed the bearded one to his companion at the hatchway. "Now, I'll douse the cabin light, and then we'll cast off. This thing has moved along very slickly."
Eph, after having made up his mind to turn in early, had found his sleepy fit passing. He read for a while in the cabin, then pulled on a reefer and went up on deck. Williamson was already in a berth, sound asleep.
"It would be a fine night if there was a moon," Eph remarked to the marine sentry on deck.
"Yes, sir."
The marine—"soldier, and sailor, too"—not being there for conversational purposes, continued his slow pacing, his rifle resting over his right shoulder.
As Eph strolled about in the limited space of the platform deck he heard a distant creaking. It was a sound that he well knew—the hoisting of sail.
"I wonder if the local fishermen start out at this time of the night?"
Eph Somers remarked, musingly, to the sentry.
"It may be so, sir; I don't know," replied the marine.
Presently Eph made out the lines and the spread of canvas of a handsome knockabout sloop standing on out of the harbor.
The course being narrow, the sloop was obliged to sail rather close to the fleet.
"That's no fisherman!" muttered Somers, watching, his hands thrust deep in his pockets.
Presently the sloop's hull was lost to Eph's sight beyond the gunboat.
Then the boy heard a voice from the "Hudson's" deck roar out:
"Look alive, you lubber! Do you want to foul our anchor chain?"
"No, sir," came from the sloop's deck. "We'll clear you all right."
"See that you do, then!"
Then the sloop's hull came into view again, as the craft headed out toward the open water beyond.
"That's the kind of a craft Jack would give a heap to be on," thought Eph. "Queer that he should spend all his time on gasoline peanut roasters when he's so fond of whistling for a breeze behind canvas."
As the sloop neared the mouth of the little bay, and her lines became rather indistinct in the darkness, Eph Somers turned to resume his pacing of the deck.
"Hullo," muttered the submarine boy, two or three minutes later. "Here's the shore boat coming on its regular trip. I wonder if Jack and Hal are in it? It's about time for them to be coming on board."
But the shore boat, instead of coming out to the submarine, lay in at the side gangway of the gunboat opposite, and Eph discovered that his two comrades were not in the boat.
"I say," hailed Eph, "have you seen Mr. Benson and Mr. Hastings on shore!"
"No, sir," replied the petty officer in charge. Then one of the sailors in the boat spoke in an undertone.
"This man says, sir," continued the petty officer, "that he saw your friends, sir, going aboard a white knockabout sloop."
"He did, eh?" demanded the astonished Eph. "How long ago was that?"
"Only a few minutes ago, sir," replied the sailor.
"You're sure you saw Mr. Benson and Mr. Hastings?"
"Yes, sir."
"That's queer," reflected Eph. "It wouldn't be like them to go sailing at this time of the night, and without notifying me, either. But, then, I didn't see anything of 'em aboard that sloop, either."
Eph was silent for a few moments, thinking. Then, suddenly, he leaped up in the air, coming down flat-footed.
"Crackey!" ejaculated Eph Somers.
For a moment or two his face was a study in bewilderment.
"Mighty strange things have been happening all through this cruise," Eph muttered, half aloud. "Especially happening to Jack! Now, the two of them go aboard that sloop, and immediately after the boat puts out to sea in the dead of night. What if Jack and Hal have been shanghaied on that infernal sloop?"
Cold chills began to chase each other up and down the spine of Eph Somers. He was not, ordinarily, an imaginative youth, but just now the gruesome thought that had entered his mind persisted there.
He began to pace the platform deck in deep agitation.
"Anything wrong, sir?" questioned the marine sentry, halting and throwing his rifle over to port arms.
"That's just what I'd give a million dollars and ten cents to know!" exploded Eph.
"Gunboat, ahoy!" he shouted, some twenty seconds later.
"'Farnum,' ahoy!"
"I half believe, sir," Eph rattled on, "that my two comrades, Mr. Benson and Mr. Hastings have been tricked, in some way, and carried out to sea on that knockabout. They'd have been back from shore by this time, if nothing had happened."
"What do you want to do, Mr. Somers?"
"Want to do, sir?" retorted Eph. "I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to slip moorings and chase after that knockabout. What I wish to know from you, sir, is whether you'll send another marine or two on board, so that I can back up my demand to find my friends?
"I'll have to ask the lieutenant commander about that, Mr. Somers."
"Can you do it, now, sir?" asked Eph, energetically.
"Instantly. I'll let you know the decision as soon as it's made."
Eph, hanging at the rail in the silence that followed, had no notion of whether his request had been a correct one. All he knew was that his suspicions had surged to the surface, and were threatening to boil over. It was a huge relief to the boy when Mr Mayhew's voice sounded from the rail of the gunboat. Somers swiftly answered all questions.
"Your craft and crew are in a measure under our protection and orders," decided Mr. Mayhew. "I think we may properly extend you some help. I will send some men to you, and a cadet midshipman who will have my instructions."
"Will you send them quickly, sir?" begged Eph.
"I'll have men on board of you by the time that your engines are running," promised the lieutenant commander.
"Engines?" That word came as a fortunate reminder to the Submarine boy. He darted below, almost yanking Williamson from his berth, nearly pulling the machinist into his clothes. By the time that Williamson was really wide awake he found himself standing by the motors forward.
Then young Somers darted onto deck again, just in time to see the boat coming alongside. It brought two more marines, one of them a corporal. There were also two sailors. A cadet midshipman commanded them.
"Mr. Somers," reported the cadet midshipman, "I am not intended to displace you from the command of this boat. I am here only with definite instructions in case you succeed in overhauling that white sloop."
"What—" began Eph. Then he paused, with a half-grin. "Really," he added, "I ought to know better than to quiz you about your instructions from your superior officer."
"Yes, sir," assented the midshipman, simply.
Eph turned on the current to the search-light, swinging the ray about the bay. Then, too impatient to sit in the conning tower, the submarine boy took his place by the deck wheel.
"Will your seamen cast loose from the moorings?" Somers asked.
"Yes, sir," replied the midshipman.
"If there's anything wrong, good luck to you," sounded the cool voice of
Lieutenant Commander Mayhew, from the gunboat's rail.
"Thank you, sir."
No sooner had the moorings been cast loose from than Eph sounded the slow speed ahead bell. Within sixty seconds the propellers of the "Farnum" were doing a ten-knot stunt, which was soon increased to fourteen.
One of the seamen now stood, by to swing the searchlight under Eph's orders.
By the time that the submarine reached the mouth of the bay the light faintly picked up a spread of white sail, off to the East.
"That's the knockabout," cried Eph, excitedly. "Now, see here, keep that ray right across the boat as soon as we get half a mile nearer."
"It'll show the boat that you're chasing 'em, sir," advised the midshipman.
"I know it," admitted Eph. "But it will also keep the rascals from dumping my friends overboard without our catching 'em at it."
"What do you think the men in charge of that boat are, sir—pirates?"
"They're mighty close to it, if they've shanghaied Mr. Benson and Mr.
Hastings and put to sea with 'em," rejoined Eph. Then he rang for
more speed. Down below, Williamson almost instantly responded. The
"Farnum" now fairly leaped through the water.
"Turn the light on the knockabout, now, and keep it there," directed the submarine boy.
There was a seven-knot breeze blowing. At the speed at which the submarine boat was traveling the distance was soon covered.
And now the searchlight revealed two men in the standing-room of the sloop, one of whom, a bearded man, was looking backward over his wake much of the time.
"Can one of the marines fire a shot to stop those fellows?" asked Eph
Somers.
"In the air do you mean, sir?" asked the midshipman. "Certainly."
"Then I wish he'd do it."
Bang! The discharge of the rifle sounded sharply on the night air.
"It ain't stopping 'em any," muttered Eph, after a few seconds had gone by.
"Nothing would, unless fired into them," volunteered Midshipman Terrell.
It did not take long, however, to run the submarine up alongside of the sloop, at a distance of about one hundred yards.
"Now, we want you men to stop," called Midshipman Terrell, between his hands. "We are United States naval forces, from the gunboat, and you will regard this as an order that you must obey. No!" thundered the midshipman, suddenly, as the bearded one started to step down into the cabin. "You will both keep on deck. Otherwise we shall be obliged to fire into you. We mean business, remember!"
"What do you want to board us for?" demanded Curtis, pausing.
"We will explain when we come aboard."
"How are you coming, aboard? You've no small boat"
"We can land this submarine right up beside you," responded the midshipman, "if you keep straight to your present course."
"And scrape all the paint off our side," objected Curtis.
"That has no bearing on my instructions, sir. I direct you to keep straight to your present course. We will come up alongside."
"What if we don't do it?" demanded Curtis, with sudden bluster.
"Then your danger will be divided between being shot where you stand and having your craft cut in two by the bow of our craft," retorted Mr. Terrell. "You will realize, I think, that there can be no parleying with our orders."
The bearded one swore, but the corporal and his two marines stood at the rail with their rifles ready, waiting only the midshipman's order to aim and fire.
Eph allowed the "Farnum" to fall back a little way. Then he exerted himself to show his best in seamanship as he ran the submarine up to board the sloop by the starboard quarter. The two boats barely touched. Mr. Terrell, his three marines and two seamen leaped to the standing room of the yacht. Eph, all aquiver, let the nose of the "Farnum" fall back slightly. Then he trailed along, under bare headway.
Then a shout came from the sloop, as the two seamen reappeared, bearing the forms of Jack and Hal.
"We've found them aboard, Mr. Somers," shouted Terrell. "Drugged, I think, sir. Will you some alongside, sir."
Eph quickly rang the signal, then did some careful manoeuvering. As he touched, one of the marines leaped back to the platform deck, then passed a line to Mr. Terrell. The two craft were held together until Jack and Hal had been passed, still unconscious, over the side. The naval party quickly followed, then cast loose from the sloop.
"This whole proceeding is high-handed," growled Curtis, as soon as he saw that he was not to be molested.
"Oh, you shut up, and keep your tongue padlocked," retorted Midshipman Terrell, in high disgust. "You're lucky as it is. Now, Mr. Somers, are you going back to the bay, sir?"
"Aren't you going to take those two—body snatchers?" demanded Eph, glaring venomously at the pair on the sloop.
"My instructions don't cover that, sir," replied the cadet midshipman.
"Then hang your orders!" muttered young Somers, but he kept the words behind his teeth. Eph veered off, next headed about, while the two seamen bore Jack and Hal below to their berths.
"Will you take the wheel, Mr. Terrell?" asked Eph, edging away, with one hand on the spokes.
"Yes, sir."
Eph hurried below to the port stateroom. Jack lay in the lower berth, Hal in the upper. The two seamen, after feeling for pulse, stood by looking at the unconscious submarine boys.
"What's been done to them?" demanded Eph.
"The same old knockout drops, sir, that sailors in all parts of the world know so well, sir, I think," answered one of the men, with a quiet grin.
"Humph!" gritted Eph, bending over Jack's face. "Smell his breath."
"Yes, sir," said the sailor, obeying.
"There's no smell of liquor, there, is there?"
"No, sir," admitted the sailor, looking up, rather puzzled.
"There is some infernally mean trick in all this," growled Eph. "I am mighty sorry we didn't bring those rascals back with us."
When he went on deck again the submarine boy relieved Mr. Terrell at the wheel, completing the run in to moorings.
"Did you find your comrades aboard the sloop, Mr. Somers?" hailed the lieutenant commander, from the gunboat.
"Yes, sir."
"Are they all right?"
"Drugged, sir."
"Hm! Mr. Terrell and his detachment will return to this vessel."
The boat took them away. It was five minutes later when the boat returned, bringing the lieutenant commander, Doctor McCrea, the surgeon, and a sailor belonging to the hospital detachment aboard the "Hudson." Eph conducted them below.
"Drugged," announced the medical officer, after a brief examination.
"Humph!" uttered Mr. Mayhew. "That sort of trick isn't played on folks in any decent resort on shore. I don't understand Mr. Benson's conduct. I remember his mishap at Dunhaven. I remember the plight he got into at Annapolis; and now he and Mr. Hastings are found in this questionable shape. I am very much afraid these young men do not conduct themselves, on shore, in the careful manner that must be expected of civilian instructors to cadets."
Eph somers felt something boiling up inside of him.
CHAPTER XIX
THE LIEUTENANT COMMANDER'S VERDICT
"Let me try to get at your meaning, sir, if you please," begged Somers, after standing for a few seconds with clenched fists. "Do you mean that my friends have been going into tough resorts on shore?"
"Where else do sailors usually get drugged?" inquired Mr. Mayhew. "What kind of people usually feed sea-faring men with what are generally known as knock-out drops?"
"How should I know?" demanded Eph, solemnly.
"You see your friends, and you see their condition."
"Smell their breaths, sir. There isn't a trace of the odor of liquor."
The surgeon did so, confirming Eph's claim. "But I remember that Mr. Benson came aboard, at Dunhaven, with a very strong odor of liquor," continued the lieutenant commander.
"That had been sprinkled on his clothes, sir," argued Somers.
"Perhaps. But then there was the Annapolis affair."
"Mr. Benson explained that to you, sir."
"It's very strange," returned the lieutenant commander, "that such things seem to happen generally to Mr. Benson when he gets on shore. I know I have been ashore, in all parts of the world, without having such things happen to me."
"There is something behind this, sir, that doesn't spell bad conduct on the part of either of my friends," cried Eph, hotly. "There's some plot, some trick in the whole thing that we don't understand. And we might understand much more about it, sir, if your midshipman had arrested that pair of blackguards on the sloop, and brought them back with us."
"Had Mr. Benson and Mr. Hastings been members of the naval forces we could have done that," replied Mr. Mayhew. "Probably you don't understand, Mr. Somers, how very careful the Navy has to be about making arrests in times of peace, when the civil authorities are all supreme. We carried our right as far as it could possibly be stretched when we boarded and searched that sloop for you."
"I don't care so much about that," contended Eph, warmly. "But it does jar on me, sir, to have you take such a view of my friends. You don't know them; you don't understand them as Mr. Farnum and Mr. Pollard do."
"Perhaps you wouldn't blame me as much for my opinions," replied Mr. Mayhew, "if you could look at the matter from my viewpoint, Mr. Somers. I am in charge of this cruise, which is one of instruction to naval cadets, and I am in a very large measure responsible for the conduct and good behavior of young men who have been selected as instructors to the cadets. If you were in my place, Mr. Somers, would you be patient over young men who, when they get ashore, get into one unseemly scrape after another? Or would you wonder, as I do, whether it will not be best for me to end this practice cruise and sail back to Annapolis, there to make my report in the matter?"
"For heaven's sake don't do that," begged Eph Somers, hoarsely. "At least, not until you have talked with Mr. Benson and Mr. Hastings. You'll wait until morning, sir?"
"I'm afraid I shall have to, if I want to talk with your friends," replied the lieutenant commander, smiling coldly. "And now, Mr. Somers, you and I had better leave here. The doctor and his nurse will want the room cleared in order to look after their patients. I hope your friends will be all right in the morning," added the naval officer, as the pair gained the deck.
"Now, see here, sir," began Eph, earnestly, all over again. "I hope you'll soon begin to understand that, whatever has happened, there are no two straighter boys alive than Jack Benson and Hal Hastings."
"I trust you're right," replied Mr. Mayhew, less coldly. "Yet, what can you expect me to think, now that Benson has been in such scrapes three different times? And, in this last instance, he drags even the quiet Mr. Hastings into the affair with him."
"I see that I'll have to wait, sir," sighed Eph, resignedly.
"Yes; it will be better in every way to wait," agreed the lieutenant commander. "It is plain justice, at the least, to wait and give the young men a chance to offer any defense that they can."
"Now, of course, from his way of looking at it, I can't blame him so very much," admitted Eph Somers, as he leaned over the rail, watching Mr. Mayhew going back through the darkness. "But Jack—great old Jack!—having any liking at all for mixing up in saloons and such places on shore! Ha, ha! Ho, ho!"
Williamson, now able to leave his motors, came on deck, asking an account of what had happened. The machinist listened in amazement, though, like Eph, he needed no proof that the boys, whatever trouble they had encountered, had met honestly and innocently.
"Of course that naval officer is right, too, from his own limited point of view," urged Williamson.
"Oh, yes, I suppose so," nodded Somers, gloomily. "I've been trying to tell myself that. But it would be fearful, wouldn't it, if the 'Farnum' were ordered away from the fleet, and Jack disgraced, just because of things he really didn't do."
"It's a queer old world," mused the machinist, thoughtfully. "We hear a lot about the consequences of wrong things we do. But how often people seem to have to pay up for things they never did!"
"Oh, well," muttered Eph, philosophically, "let's wait until morning.
A night's sleep straightens out a lot of things."
Williamson, however, having had some sleep earlier in the night, was not drowsy, now. He lighted a pipe, lingering on the platform deck. Eph, not being a user of tobacco, went below to find that Doctor McCrea, from the gunboat, was sitting in the cabin, reading a book he had chosen from the book-case.
"I've brought the young men around somewhat," reported the physician. "I've made them throw off the drug, and now I've left some stuff with the nurse to help brace them up. They'll have sour stomachs and aching heads in the morning, though."
"But you noticed one thing, Doctor?" pressed Somers.
"What was that?"
"That there were no signs of liquor about them? Those boys never tasted a drop of the vile stuff in their lives!"
"I'm inclined to believe you," nodded the surgeon. "They have splendid, clear skins, eyes bright as diamonds, sound, sturdy heartbeats, and they're full of vitality. I've met boys from the slums, once in a while—beer-drinkers and cigarette-smokers. But such boys never show the splendid physical condition that your friends possess."
"You know, then, as well as I do, Doctor, that neither of my chums are rowdies, and that, whatever happened to them to-night, they didn't get to it through any bad habits or conduct?"
"I'm much inclined to agree with you, Mr. Somers."
"I hope, then, you'll succeed in impressing all that on Lieutenant
Commander Mayhew in the morning."
With that the submarine boy passed on to the starboard stateroom. He would have given much to have stepped into the room opposite, but felt, from the doctor's manner, that the latter did not wish his patients disturbed.
Eph slept little that night. Though Jack and Hal fared better in that single respect, Somers looked far the best of the three in the morning.
Jack and Hal came out with bandages about their heads, which buzzed and ached.
The two, however, told their story to Somers and Williamson as soon as possible.
"Just as I supposed," nodded Eph, vigorously.
"Why, how did you guess it all?" asked Benson, in astonishment.
"I mean, I knew you hadn't been in any low sailor resorts."
"Who said we had?" demanded Jack, flaring in spite of his dizziness.
"Some of the Navy folks didn't know but you had," replied Eph, then bit his tongue for having let that much out of the bag.
Doctor McCrea came aboard early. He looked the boys over.
"Eat a little toast, if you want, and drink some weak tea," he suggested.
"After that, eat nothing more until to-night."
"But the day's work—?" hinted Jack.
"I don't know," replied the doctor, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm not a line officer, and therefore know nothing about the fleet's manoeuvres."
That reply, however, was quite enough to send Jack Benson's suspicions aloft.
"Eph," he cried, wheeling upon his friend the moment Doctor McCrea was gone, "there's something you haven't told us."
"Such as—what?" asked Somers, doing his best to look mighty innocent.
"Doctor McCrea as good as admitted that we—won't have anything to do to-day. What's wrong?" Then, after a brief pause: "Good heavens, does Mr. Mayhew believe we've been acting disgracefully? Are we barred out of the instruction work?"
Hal had been raising a glass of cold water to his lips. The glass fell, with a crash. He wheeled about, then clutched at the edge of the cabin table, most unsteadily.
"We-e-ll," admitted Somers, reluctantly, "Mr. Mayhew said he would want to question you some, perhaps, this morning."
"What did he say? Out with it all, Eph!"
A moment before Jack Benson had been pallid enough. Now, two bright, furious spots burned in either cheek.
The red-haired boy, however, was spared the pain of going any further, for, at that moment, a heavy tread was heard on the spiral staircase. Then Lieutenant Commander Mayhew, holding himself very erect, one hand resting against the scabbard of the sword that he wore at his side, came into view below.
Many were the questions that the naval officer put to the two victims of the last night's mishap. All the time his eyes studied their faces keenly. Apparently, it needed a lot of assurance to half convince Mr. Mayhew that the two submarine boys were telling him the truth.
"Well, gentlemen," he said, at last, rising and speaking with great deliberation, "I believe you to be gentlemen, which means that you are young men of honor, if it means anything at all. Your story is so strange that—pardon me—it is difficult to credit. Yet I have no evidence that it is not true. I am sorry we have not in custody the two men who sailed that sloop last night—"
"Pardon me, sir," broke in Eph, "but I have an idea to spring."
"Well, Mr. Somers?"
"It is a mighty likely thing that, if you question that fellow, Truax, that you have on board, you may be able to learn something from him. For I tell you, sir, there's some plot on hand to discredit the Pollard submarine boats with the United States Government. There's a scheme, too, to ruin Jack Benson—but that's only a part of the bigger plot to discredit our company's boats with the Navy, sir."
An expression of wonder crept into Mr. Mayhew's face. Then he looked thoughtful.
"I'll see if I can hit upon a tactful way of questioning Truax," replied the naval officer, after a while. "And now, Mr. Benson, since you and Mr. Hastings are not in the least fit to instruct any of the cadets to-day, I'll send out sections on board the 'Pollard' only, under command of my executive officer, Lieutenant Halpin. To-morrow you should be in shape to resume your duties. Yet, if I permit this, I must make one condition."
"It will be hardly necessary, sir, to make any conditions with us,"
Jack replied, with spirit. "Your instructions will be sufficient.
We are wholly at your orders, sir. What are your commands?"
"As long as you remain on this present tour of duty, Mr. Benson, and you, also, Mr. Hastings, you are requested not to leave the 'Farnum,' except with my knowledge and consent. Will that be satisfactory to you?"
"It will, sir," Captain Jack Benson replied, saluting.
"Very good, then. And now, young gentlemen, I will wish you good morning. Remain at anchor, to-day, and on board."
As soon as Mr. Mayhew and his clanking sword had gone up the stairway, and then over the side into a cutter, Eph Somers struck an attitude.
"O wise judge! O just judge!" exclaimed the red-haired one, dramatically.
"Now, what's getting possession of your cranium?" smiled Hal Hastings, weakly.
"You heard Mr. Mayhew's verdict in your case," mocked Eph, a glare in his eyes. "A great verdict! 'Not guilty—but don't do it again'."
CHAPTER XX
COMING UP IN A TIGHT PLACE
"Sulks are no part of real manhood. Your sullen fellow is seldom, or never, one you can tie to in trouble."
Though at first they felt some spirited resentment against the very plain suspicions of Lieutenant Commander Mayhew, it was not long before both the victims of the queer work of the night before began to see that there was an abundance of reason and good sense in the naval officer's belief and attitude.
"There's only one thing we can do, Hal," proposed Jack. "That is, to show Mr. Mayhew, by long-continued good action, that we're just the sort of fellows our friends believe us to be."
"Mr. Mayhew doesn't know us," Hal assented. "To a stranger our yarn does have a fishy sound."
"If it weren't for the restriction against our going ashore," hinted Jack, "we'd certainly hustle to land and find out all we could about that fellow Curtis since he has been living in Blair's Cove."
"I'm under no promise, or orders, either," bristled Eph, ready to do battle for his friends. "I can go on shore."
"No, you can't, Eph!" negatived Jack, with decision. "You might be the very next one to get into a big scrape. Then how would things look for the whole of us?"
"Humph! I'd have my eyes open," grunted Somers.
"We thought we had ours open," smiled Hal Hastings.
"No one of our crowd will go ashore, unless ordered there by Mr. Mayhew," declared Benson, with emphasis. "We're not taking another solitary chance."
"We've got all we can do to take our present medicine," muttered Hal, making a wry face.
But they did take it, and, as is always the case, with benefit to their general sense of discipline. In fact, when ordered aboard the gunboat, before eight o'clock the next morning, Jack Benson and Hal Hastings, in their best uniforms, and looking as natty as could be, appeared quite the ideal of young submarine officers.
Passing scores of cadet midshipmen, they were ushered into Lieutenant Commander Mayhew's cabin. Doctor McCrea, the gunboat's surgeon, sat with the commanding officer.
"I was anxious to see how you looked this morning," smiled Mr. Mayhew, as the two naval officers rose. "How do you feel? Thoroughly clear-headed and steady?"
"We feel fine, sir," Jack answered.
"They look in the pink of condition," agreed Doctor McCrea.
"If you don't feel wholly up to the mark," urged Mr. Mayhew, "say so. For, if you put out to-day, it is my intention to take the cadets through drills below the surface."
Jack's eyes sparkled at the thought. This meant that he and Hal were to be taken back fully into the confidence of the Navy!
"We're ready, sir—ready at the word of command."
"Very good, then," replied the gunboat's commander. "You will receive sixteen of our young men on board within an hour. Ensign Trahern will come with them."
Jack started, flushing.
"Oh, you will be in command of your boat, Mr. Benson," continued Mr. Mayhew, noting the start and interpreting it correctly. "Mr. Trahem may make some suggestions, if he thinks them necessary, but you will command, sir, and you will instruct the midshipmen."
"Thank you, sir."
"That is all, Mr. Benson."
Jack and Hal saluted, turned and left the cabin.
"That's not as bad as it might be, is it?" queried Hastings, as soon as they were back on board the "Farnum."
"We're on probation," smiled Jack. "It's all we can expect, I suppose."
In due time the section of naval cadets came on board. Mr. Mayhew was also thoughtful enough to send a naval machinist to take the place of Sam Truax in the engine room. Thus Hal had two men to look after the motors and other machinery under his direction, leaving Eph at Jack's more personal orders.
"The lieutenant commander sends you word, with his compliments," reported Ensign Trahern, "that, after leaving the bay, the formation will be as usual. The signal to halt and be ready for the tour of instruction will be given when we are about ten miles off the coast, due East."
"Mr. Trahern, will it not be a good idea to have the midshipmen manage the deck wheel and engine room signals, each in turn, on the way out and back?" inquired the young submarine skipper.
"Excellent, I should say," nodded the ensign. "But that is as you direct, Mr. Benson. I am not here to interfere with your acting in full charge of the instruction tour."
Six of the cadets, of the engineer division, being below in the engine room, there were but ten on the platform deck. Jack selected one of the latter, ordering him to the deck wheel.
"You will take charge, Mr. Surles," instructed Jack. "Assume all the responsibilities of the officer of the deck."
When the starting order came from the gunboat, just before the "Hudson" glided ahead in the lead, Mr. Surles gave the order to cast loose from moorings. The engine room bell jangled; Surles, for the first time in his life, was watch officer of a submarine torpedo boat.
As they left the bay behind, the young man gave up his temporary post to a comrade. In all, five of the midshipmen commanded, briefly, before the laying-to signal was given out at sea.
Hal Hastings now appeared on deck, gravely saluting.
"Captain Benson," he stated, "I have inspected all the submerging machinery, the tanks, the compressed air apparatus, and all, and find everything in good order. We can go below the surface at any moment."
Two or three of the naval cadets smiled broadly at hearing the title bestowed on a boy younger than many of themselves.
"No levity, gentlemen," broke in Ensign Trahern, rather sternly. "Mr.
Benson is captain to his own chief engineer."
Jack waited until he saw the signal flags break out at the foretop of the "Hudson." It was an inquiry as to whether he was prepared for diving.
"Yes," signaled back the "Farnum's" flags.
"Dive at will, but keep to a due east or west course. Be careful to avoid collision with the sister craft," came the next order from the parent boat.
"All below!" ordered Benson, crisply.
Ensign Trahern waited until the last of the cadets had filed below, then followed them. Last of all came Jack Benson, after having lowered the short signal mast and made other preparations. Now he stepped inside the conning tower, swiftly making all fast. Then he called Midshipman Surles up the stairway to the tower wheel.
"Do you think you can head due east, and keep to that course under water,
Mr. Surles?" asked the young submarine instructor.
"Yes, sir."
"Take the wheel, then. I will send two more men up here to observe with you."
Stepping down to the cabin floor, Jack chose two more midshipmen, ordering them up into the tower.
"The rest of you will crowd about me, as I handle the submerging machinery," called Jack, raising his voice somewhat. "Ask any questions you wish, at appropriate times."
"I thought, sir," spoke up one of the middies, "that you controlled the diving apparatus from the conning tower."
"It can be done there, when the officer in charge of the boat is up there," Jack answered. "The diving, and the rising, may be controlled at this point in the cabin. Mr. Hastings, give us eight miles ahead from the electric motors."
"Yes, sir," came the word from Hal.
"Pass the word to Mr. Surles to keep to the course," added Benson.
Under the impetus from the electric motors, which were used when going under water, the propeller shafts began to throb.
"We're going down, now, gentlemen," called Jack. "Observe the shifting record on the depth gauge, as we go lower and lower. Also, look out for your footing, for we dive on an inclined plane. Now—here we go!"